His lips part and release the faintest, “Yes.”

I do my best, a thin shape that looks more like a crescent moon. “Like so?”

He nods. “Thank you, Dada.”

It’s not me who taught him thank you. It’s Sara. Already she’s showing him good manners. I didn’t even notice it happening.

Bryan is still shy with me when I tear the corner off a Cadbury wrapper and show him how to press out the melted chocolate. My boy accepts the chocolate I squeeze onto his finger like it’s something holy. He licks it off with his small pink tongue. Sara’s tongue.

Sara sits up. “Should we go in?”

I undress Bryan and take off his nappy. My son’s skin is dark and even and supple. His belly button is a small sweet nut. Sara removes her shirt and her skirt to reveal her swimming costume. I take off my polo, so I’m down to my shorts and singlet. I’m a bit embarrassed for Sara to see me, but she doesn’t stare.

With Sara beside me, I take Bryan in my arms and carry him into the sea. At Indigo Bay, the guests pause on the sand before they walk into the water, as if some sort of preparation is required. It’s different here. We walk into the sea as easily as taking our next step. We are not alone in the water. I see a father with a daughter. A woman in a pink bathing cap. An old man holds an old woman by the arm and guides her through the soft waves.

We wade out until the water comes to Sara’s waist, Bryan nestled in the crook of my arm. The water is warm, almost the same as the air. Then I feel something warmer on my arm. At first I think it’s the last of the day’s heat, but the warmth is moving, flowing. I look at Bryan. My boy is laughing—big laughter, full and free. Sara and I look down at my arm at the same time. Urine, trickling in a small channel. We laugh, too. Then Sara closes her eyes, leans back, and floats.

I see us then, a family together in the sea. And something happens to me that maybe I can’t ever explain. On this evening, I am a father. Later, Sara and I will tuck Bryan’s sleeping ragdoll body into bed. Later still I’ll lime with Edwin. For the first time ever, my life feels like my life.

ISN’T IT the fuck of it all that tonight of all nights, when all I want is to lime with my mate, to feel my life being my life, we’re saddled with the girl? We’re in the car on the way to Paulette’s. Engine sputtering, chicken in the road, and she. Tonight’s she last night. Edwin knows what this means and from the way she’s dressed in a short skirt and a top that ties with a string around she neck, she knows it, too.

“You ready for a wild night, girl?” Edwin says.

She scoffs. “Paulette’s is not exactly the pinnacle of wild.”

“Maybe we’ll take you out to Faraway,” he says with a grin. “See if the goat lady take an interest in you.”

“I’m down for whatever,” the girl says, like it makes no difference to she. But I see she hidden smile, so pleased to think we’re going to do something big for she last night. What is it about this one, so convinced she’s special? I want to tell she there was Julie and Callie and Lisa and Lauren and Molly before her, and there will be plenty of pretty pretty girls after her. She may be a bit sharper than most, she may be quicker with her tongue, but in the end she wants what they all want: to take home the story of how she fucked the man who brought she towels on the beach. But so what? She’s using him, but he’s using she, too. They get their story and he gets them.

At Paulette’s, Edwin buys all of we a round of ganja shots. Next, rum. At some point I must switch glasses with he, because soon both of ours are finished. I buy another, and another. I’m getting good and gone now. Music playing, bottles clinking, mutt begging. Sounds of Edwin and the girl.

I watch them dance. She does have a nice sway. Together they move so right. You can’t learn this. You want to know the secret of life? You will never be they. They is always someone else.

We’re at Paulette’s an hour or so when the girl says, “I’m bored. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where do you have in mind?” Edwin says.

“I thought we were going to Faraway?” she says with a glint in she eyes.

He laughs. “You mad, girl?”

“But I thought you said—”

“I was just messing with you. Anyway, how you think we would get there?”

She looks down at the floor. “Whatever,” she mumbles. “Forget it.”

“Relax. Plenty of wild places to go.”

Next thing we’re in the car. Edwin drives fast. Windows down, radio blasting. The potholes give a good bump—the girl bounces so high she head hits the roof, hard, and she laughs. We’re all good and drunk. Ready for the night to take we.

When Edwin pulls off the road at the spot where the scrub leads to the nameless cliffs, I turn a hard gaze on he. I don’t want to take some Yankee chick to this place. But Edwin pretends not to notice. He turns off the car and climbs out. He grabs a bottle of rum from the car and says, “Follow me.”

We walk single-file, Edwin then she then me. We’ve limed here pretty regular over the years since we found the spot in the boat with Keithley, and there’s a path carved into the scrub, so faint you have to know it’s there to find it. But the ground is uneven and the path is narrow and the scrub is so thick sometimes you have to shield your face as you walk. I see the girl turn around and look behind she. The road is gone.

“Where are we going, anyway?” she asks. She tries to make her voice calm, but she’s nervous, and I feel a bit pleased to see this cocky one brought a little low. She stumbles as she walks. This is she drunkest night yet.

“This wild enough for you, miss?” Edwin replies.

She wraps her arms tight across she chest like she’s cold. She’s scared for true now, and just when I’m about to break and tell she everything’s fine and where we’re going, the scrub parts and we’re here. The stretch of smooth, flat rock that leads to the edge. The ocean lit up by the moon. The girl doesn’t hesitate. She dashes right up to the edge, so fast for a second I think she’s going to go right over.

“Shit, girl, watch yourself!” Edwin says.

She turns to us. “This place is amazing.” She kicks off she sandals and we do the same, leaving we shoes in a pile. She walks the edge like a high-wire walker in the circus, up on she tiptoes with she hands out to her sides. Next, she stands with she toes curled over the edge, looking out. In the distance, Faraway is a black shadow against the black sky.

Edwin nudges me. “She ripe to be fucked or what?”

Then he runs at she, his bare feet soundless against the rock. When he reaches she, he puts his arms around her and she shrieks. He scoops her up. He twirls her around.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she says, laughing so hard she’s gasping. She hits him, but not hard; she’s not angry, she’s flirting. She leans back in Edwin’s arms and looks up at the stars and kicks her feet like she’s swimming through the air. He puts her down and we sit together on the rocks.

Edwin passes the bottle of rum around. He pulls a spliff from his pocket. We’re having a real bacchanal now, just the three of we. The rocks are smooth and cool. The sky offers we everything: crescent moon, stars so bright it’s like they’re fucking with we.

She tips the bottle back and lets the liquor flow down she throat. She blows smoke into Edwin’s face and he breathes it in. I reach for the spliff. She shakes she head, wags she finger.

“Not yet.” She takes another hit, brings she face close to me, and exhales. Then her mouth is on my mouth. I’m so gone I don’t wonder what or why. Her tongue twists around my tongue. I take she hips in my hands. She berry lips. She little tits pressing against my chest. I feel myself going hard.

She pulls away. There’s a twinkle in she eyes. She turns to Edwin. Then her mouth is on his mouth and I watch she kiss he. Her ponytail tosses in the wind. He unties the string around her neck. He runs his hands up and down she sides and groans.

She pulls away from he, same as she did from me. I look to see if something’s wrong, but she still has the twinkle in she eyes. She twirls her ponytail with her finger, like she’s alone here, amusing herself. Then she looks at we. “Your turn.”

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she says.

“You shitting we,” Edwin says.

“You scared, boys?” She makes a big show of tying the string around her neck again, though she’s so drunk she does it sloppy. “I thought you were up for something wild. Never mind, I guess.”